


Fragile Things

by LadyMerlin



Series: Fiction for Fandomaid [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: fandom_aid, Graphic descriptions, M/M, Manipulative!Peter, One-Sided Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Undead!Peter, dark!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:59:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4638312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was the only one who never turned his back to Peter. </p><p>That made him, by far, the most interesting member of the haphazard disaster that called itself a Pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keerawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keerawa/gifts).



> This fic was written for the amazing Keerawa, who donated money to the World Vets in the aftermath of the devastating Nepal Earthquake in April 2015. 
> 
> I know, this is terribly late, and I'm not even done with the others, but with my apologies and gratitude and extra words FOC, I hope you like it anyway.

Peter hadn’t been surprised by the watchful eyes. Frankly, he’d expected nothing less than outright distrust and suspicion. The pack was young, but not _stupid_ , and he _was_ dangerous by any reckoning. What _had_ surprised him was that there hadn’t been any sort of collective pack-effort to keep an eye on the creepy undead uncle. He’d been hoping for a Watch-Peter-Kaper-Chart, at the very least.

That’d have been nice.

But no-wolf, not even his idiot nephew, even _realised_ there was a predator in their midst. They acted like they’d gained another beta whom they just didn’t like much, and it was so unspeakably _stupid_ that Peter couldn’t believe they were still alive.

Stiles was the only one who refused to turn his back to Peter, and that automatically made him the most interesting member of the haphazard disaster that called itself a pack. Still, one teenager an army did not make, and it left Peter plenty of time to make his next plan of attack.

It was funny, the way the pack brushed off Stiles’ completely justified concerns about Peter as paranoia.

Funny, and such a _relief_ , because it meant no one paid any attention to Peter, _despite_ the repeated warnings. Still, Peter enjoyed Stiles’ valiant, if fruitless efforts, to convince the pack that he was dangerous.

Not to mention the endlessly entertaining zombie jokes, which only Peter understood as the threat they really were. They were well-matched; adept at playing games behind the scenes, and always under-estimated. _Stiles_ was dangerous, and that was an unexpected challenge, but one he relished all the same.

Sometimes Peter wondered what would have happened if he’d bitten the right boy in the Preserve, that night, all those months ago. Stiles would have made a _devastating_ wolf, but it was lucky that Peter had got Scott instead (poor, guileless, _naïve_ Scott). If _Stiles_ had been the beta who’d set his mind against him, Peter wouldn’t have stood a chance. The thought was discomforting, and Peter was _intrigued._

That was always a good start.

Boring was so… _boring_ , and Peter wanted to _play_.

Derek described Stiles as a sarcastic bundle of pale skin and fragile bones, and everyone laughed like it was a punchline, but Peter had _always_ loved the way bruises showed best on pale skin. He’d been both thrilled and _aghast_ when he realised that there was no competition; no one he’d have to quietly kill for the honour of _ruining_ Stiles. They must have been _blind_ , and that made it even more fun, stealing Stiles from beneath their noses, making Stiles _want_ to come with him.

If he’d been pack; if he’d been on _their_ side, he’d have told them to guard their Spark jealously. Thankfully he only had to look after his own interests, and Stiles was so easy. All he ever wanted was attention, and Peter was a master flatterer. It really didn’t take much; soft words and heated touches and quiet kisses to make Stiles open up like a flower in bloom.

One day he was going to strip Stiles naked, and have his wicked way with him, and he was going make Derek watch, because only a blind man would have missed the desire in his nephew’s eyes, the _idiot_. But for now, Peter satisfied himself with exchanging verbal barbs with Stiles while touching him to make his heartbeat spike prettily, fear and arousal all rolled into one.

Derek threatened him sometimes; warned him to stay away from the pack; to stay away from _Stiles_ , to respect that he didn’t want to be turned.

If Peter had wanted to turn Stiles, he would have done it in the car park, in the dark, surrounded by the smell of gasoline and fear, where there was no one to hear him screaming. He’d have _taken_ what he wanted, if he’d really wanted it.

But Peter didn’t _want_ to turn Stiles.

Peter wouldn’t have been able to turn Stiles, because once he sliced through the fine, translucent skin of Stiles’ wrist, and sank his teeth into the tendons of his fore-arm, he wouldn’t have been able to stop. Stiles’ blood, virginal, sparking with electricity, and thrumming with magic, would have worked like a drug.

There would have been no new pack-mate at the end of the night; only a dead teenager and a magic-drunk wolf.

Peter was honest enough (with himself, at least) to admit that he’d have missed the relentless sarcasm, and the constant smell of arousal. Besides, he wanted Stiles to survive, because one day he’d open the door, and let the wolf in.

When Peter had worn through his defences and burrowed into every corner of Stiles’ mind, he’d freely invite Peter into his own bed, and that would be the ultimate victory. Peter would _relish_ the look on Derek’s face when he realised what Peter had done.After all, they did say that the best revenge was a life well lived.

What would be more delicious than living the life his nephew wanted to live?

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a quote by Neil Gaiman, which goes: "There are so many fragile things, after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts."
> 
> Bad stuff happens in the world all the time. If, like me, you don't have much cash to spare, but you want to help anyway, consider [Fandomaid](http://fandomaid.livejournal.com/) on LJ.


End file.
